Brethren of the Pen; Challenge V
(Phobias)
Brain Attack
Why was he shaking so much? And why the headache when he hadn't even had a drop of rum for days? Ah yes, now he remembered. The whelp surprisingly had been able to surprise him.
"You. You're supposed to be dead!" suddenly a voice said. Oooh, these terrible lights… his poor head… "Am I not?" he said in return. He found himself cornered with a dozen of guns pointed at him. Ah well, there was always a way out. What was it again…
"Puhluley, puhlulehvoos…" He probably sounded ridiculous. "Parleli, parsmi, pasley, parle, parle…"
The one eyed pirate he vaguely remembered as Rickety Ragetti suggested: " Parley?"
The fool. "Parley! That's the one. Parley! Parley!" Ah, safety.
Good old dope Pintel was obviously frustrated, he could see the veins at his forehead swell. It looked funny. "Parley! Down to the depths whatever muttonhead thought up parley!"
"That would be the French." he replied, in a lecturing way. That seemed to annoy Pintel even more, so he decided to go on a bit. "Latin-based of course. Inventors of mayonnaise." That confused Pintel: "I like mayonnaise." He now was well underway: "Obsessed with raisins. Humiliated grapes, really. Think about it."
Humiliated grapes… it echoed in Jack's mind. For the first times in years he actually did think about it.
………………
It was a summery afternoon and nine-year-old Jack and his older friend Hector hid in a dusky barn. A few hours earlier they had entertained themselves by stealing a little barrel that appeared to be filled with raisins. By now they had each eaten about a pound of these – sweet yet at the same time somewhat spicy tasting- fruits. The world now seemed to spin around a little too... Funny.
"Actually they're kind of sad, you know", Hector said. "Who?", asked Jack. "These raisins. They used to be fat and juicy and now they're twisted. They had their lives stolen. Well, they taste sweet, but really they're just humiliated grapes. I can't say I am a big supporter of the raisin council." Jack gasped, looking at disgust at the raisins he was about to put in his mouth. It was true. These ugly, creased thingies used to be tempting, juicy, full bunches of fruit. He had once seen them hanging in a tree, swinging in the wind, reaching out to him as if they were saying "Look at us, we're delicious!" It was a wonderful sight.
Jack mumbled: "They danced! They sang!" Hector smiled. "Yeah, they sing and dance and all we people do is eat them. We're murderers!" He held a raisin close to Jack's face, saying with a twisted, deep voice: "I'm ugly. I don't want to live. Eat me…"
Jack abruptly jumped up, throwing away his raisins. "Keep those terrible little freaks away from me!" Hector just laughed and managed to throw a handful of raisins in Jack's collar. Jack went ballistic. They were everywhere… sliding down his neck, his back, then rolling down through his pants… It was a massive attack.
Jack staggered away. Just around the corner he had to throw up and then he fainted. Weeks after that day he was still visited by dancing raisins in his nightmares. He never ate one raisin again, rum soaked or not.
………….
Slowly he became aware of his environment again. His knees for some reason buckling even more than before. The pirates' faces around him were bewildered. Weakly he excused himself: "Sorry, I was having a flashback…"
